RWRB Oneshots

Interview Part 2 (Interview scene pre-relationship)

Alex

It's only once they're back in the SUV that Alex practically collapses. Henry is talking with Shaan who has for once joined them in the back seats and he takes their distraction as an opportunity to curl towards the window.

He raised his leg, resting his foot on the car seat so he can use it as a physical shield between him and Henry when he rests his arm on his knee. It's certainly not a respectful stance but he's been shaking since he left the studio and wants to hide away for a little bit.

You have both been quite vocal about your grief.

June would disagree. He can still hear her pleading voice outside of his bedroom door, begging him to let her in, to talk to her. He hadn't let her in. His mom and dad had been separated at that point but his dad had stayed at their house for two weeks until Alex left his room.

Or rather, Oscar Diaz had kicked his bedroom door down, checked his son was alive and then apologised for intruding on his privacy before backing out the room and propping the door up.

They didn't fix that door for a long time. Nor did they have locks on bathroom doors.

That was when he had laid down on the floor, eyes open and just rested for what felt like a few years. Once he had laid on the ground his mind had gone quiet. Thoughts slowed down, emotions dulled. As his consciousness drifted away he had focused on her limbs, on what he could physically feel.

Cold ground, damp humidity, stale air. Pins and needles had set in. Pinching his fingers, curling his knuckles involuntarily as his muscled spasmned and burned. His toes had curled, his muscles had tensed and his breath came in stunted bursts.

And then it settled, and he couldn't feel a thing. The blood pumping around his body had slowed, his heart felt like it was beating at a fraction of its previous pace. Many species hibernated regularly – humans didn't – but in that moment Alex slept away his grief.

School had obviously been out for a long time and Alex found himself at a loss for things to do. June had appeared a week after the broken door incident to play silent card games with him over the threshold of his bedroom doorway. It had been the most peaceful interaction he had had in a while.

His mother had wanted to talk about it. She had read every piece of literature, study and therapists' advice ten times over and wanted him to put their advice into reality. Alex was drowning, barely able to hold onto reality, let alone relive what happened and process it so soon.

His father had also wanted to talk about it but hadn't read any of his ex-wife's material or studies. They had spent days sitting silently side by side for approximately 2 minutes until his father caved and started asking him questions.

Alex had never been publicly vocal about his grief. Sure he had supported charities and raised money to support survivors and help mental health charities. There were no speeches or words of advice from him. He was there and that was enough.

But his mother's marketing and publicity team twisted the narrative. Made it seem like this was his way of giving back. That he was healed and ready to be an inspiration to others.

Alex wasn't an inspiration to anyone.

He also couldn't hear a single thing Henry was saying to him.

His ears were ringing, or maybe he was just underwater. Except he was in a car and he didn't remember how he got there. Henry is sitting opposite him, leant forward with his arms braced on his knees.

There's something soft in his expression that has Alex's heart fluttering. Or rather his whole body fluttering because he can't feel anything. Out of body experiences are apparently a thing. He's only ever been one step away mentally from his physical body when panicking.